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Chapter Text

A Christmas Oops

"Just a little a further… Push. Come on… Push! I can do this!" Steve coaxed himself on as he pressed his back against the tree blocking his door, trying to shove it inside. He turned around and pushed again, legs shaking, feet slipping on the front step and he wasn't getting anywhere. Steve wheezed and dropped to his knees, resting on the heavy thing for a second. He found it heavy, that didn't mean it really was. Any other man could probably get it inside no problem; they just needed to lift it and wriggling it around the doorway to get all the branches inside. But Steve couldn't lift it, so that's where he was stuck. "Just a little rest," He told himself, huffing in air, trying to keep it calm and collected because he could feel a cough coming on. And wouldn't that just make his day? To get sick on top of failing to get the tree inside.

"Having trouble there, Steven?" A gentle voice called to him from a little down the sidewalk, he looked over to see his neighbours peering at him curiously. The older couple was just coming home from their daily walk, it seemed. Wrapped up warmly in their fluffy coats, they looked comfortable and friendly, though he couldn't help but feel patronized by their sympathetic looks.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins. And I'm okay, just trying to get the Christmas tree inside." He smiled in return and started to stand up, his throat tickled and agitated him as he regained his footing. Simply trying to clear it with a light cough only made it worse and brought on a full fit, nearly doubling him over again.

"Poor thing…" Mrs. Jenkins whispered and glanced at her husband who rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you wait until Bucky gets home to do it?" He asked, not wanting to actually help, earning a sharp elbow to his ribs from his wife.

Steve gulped air down properly for a few seconds before shrugging and attempting to push the tree in again, "Because Bucky doesn't know I'm doing it. We haven't had a tree in a long time because he's always working and I…" He groaned and strained against the stubborn thing, pausing to look for the stuck branches, "There you are…" he muttered, decidedly not finishing the previous sentence as he spotted the offending areas.

He worked alone for a few more seconds before Mrs. Jenkins joined him and helped him lift and angle the thing inside. "Why would you pick such a big tree then?" She asked kindly, "If you can't carry it, I mean."

"Someone threw it out," Steve laughed, "So I grabbed it and dragged back here." He looked at it fondly as they set it up properly in the living room, it looked kind of smaller than he thought it would but that didn't matter. He'd just have to decorate it with something before Bucky got home.

"You boys try so hard," Mrs. Jenkins sighed as she walked out the door, Steve figured that was her goodbye so he called out after her.

"Thanks for all the help, ma'am!" He hadn't expected her to come back with a box of old Christmas decorations. All Steve could do was blink as she placed it on his floor, "Ma'am?"

"These are for you, Steve." She smiled, "Make it look nice for him."

Tears welled up in his eyes but men don't cry so he held them back and gave her a firm nod. "I will, thank you." A careful hug and a goodbye later she was out the door again, leaving Steve to smile and look sheepishly at the box on his floor.

It was time to surprise his best friend with something that wasn't going to result in a hospital visit for once.

Bucky ran a dirty hand down his face, factory work was going to kill him, he was certain of it. But it paid decent money so he wasn't going to complain. At least he had a job. And as sick as the boy was, he still had Steve. Steve who couldn't do anything of any use because he might die from it. That was a very mean thought to have but Bucky couldn't help it, he was so exhausted from worrying himself sick over his friend. It wasn't Steve's fault and Bucky wished he could help more than just tuck him in at night and pray that a cold didn't turn into pneumonia, or that the strange way Steve's heart beat would be the last one. And it didn't help that the twerp would always go out and do something stupid, or make a mess that he wasn't able to clean up. He loved Steve, he really did, but sometimes he just wanted to shake him. Not hard, just a little. Bucky shook his head and started hauling himself back toward home, he just had to work through things one day at a time.

Approaching their small living space together he looked at the scratches on the doorframe and rubbed his face again, "Steve…." Bucky muttered as he pushed the door open, "What did you do to the door!?" He shouted agitatedly, not caring that Steve had trotted closer and that he didn't need to yell. "Steve, seriously, what happened to the frame?"

"I'll tell you in a second, come here-" Steve motioned for Bucky to follow but stopped when he noticed the overly-tired expression and the agitation starting to mix in. "Bucky? Did I-"

"Do something?" Bucky finished his sentence with a snap, "Yeah, you screwed up the doorframe!" He smacked his hand against the markings before slamming the door shut behind him. "What the heck were you doing?"

"I'll show you-"

"No, I don't want to see whatever stupid project you're doing, okay?" Bucky started kicking off his shoes, his aching feet finding some relief on the tiled floor. "I mean Jesus, Steve. I know you're sick and you can't work but you could at least not be counter-productive and break things." He hadn't looked up but he recognized the sound of Steve's footsteps hurrying away. "Goddamn it…" he muttered, walking into the living room.

When he saw the tree he froze, the thing was perfectly decorated with a card stuck in its branches, or a note since they couldn't afford fancy cards. His name was written on it.

"Goddamn it!" he shouted and ran over to Steve's room, "Steve?" He tried the doorknob, which didn't budge; Steve had locked it. "C'mon buddy, let me in." Bucky rested his head against the door and waited, not hearing any movement on the other side; Steve wasn't going to open it. "Steve… I'm so sorry… I shouldn't have gotten mad like that." He waited quietly until he heard the click of lock. Steve must have been sitting against the door. Bucky slowly opened it, looking down at the huddled up form of his friend and feeling even worse when he saw the tear tracks, the ones that Steve always did his best to hide. "Steve," Bucky knelt down and leaned over, wrapping his arms around the smaller man and pressing their cheeks together. "Thank you."

Steve smiled and held onto Bucky in return, daring enough to be affectionate and nuzzle the other man's face. "You're welcome." He turned his head and planted a kiss that was meant for Bucky's cheek but the other had turned to look at Steve at the same time, so instead the loving gesture landed on Bucky's lips which nearly set Steve's face on fire. He blinked rapidly as Bucky did the same, both just staring at the other.

"Why do you look surprised?" Bucky laughed, wiping his mouth like it wasn't a big deal. "You're the one that kissed me!"

Steve couldn't help the stupid grin that pulled at his lips, "Oops."

"That's it? Oops?" Bucky pulled Steve up to his feet and slapped his back playfully, "Well I guess we'll have to make that a tradition of ours, the Christmas Oops."

"Only if you go along with it." Steve smiled, punching Bucky's arm lightly.

"Of course." Bucky scooped him up around the waist and swung him around so they were nose to nose. Steve was in shock long enough for his best friend to return the kiss, though this time a slick tongue slipped past his teeth and swept around the hot space before retreating.

"B-Bucky!" Steve exclaimed after being placed on the floor again, the taller man continuing to the living room on his own. Steve stared with his mouth open and cheeks a dark red, a loss for words.

"You know me, always have to have the last laugh."

"Jerk." Steve tried to wipe the blush away from his cheeks, following his friend.

"Punk."

Steve sat watching the twinkling lights on the 21st century Christmas tree, the other Avengers still decorating around the tower. He was surprised it was still so widely done, decorating for Christmas. But apparently Pepper really enjoyed the holiday season so anyone who was in the tower had to decorate. Steve had been out when they'd decided this and he could go and help but he wanted to take a moment for himself. The first day that the Christmas tree was put up was the day that their silly tradition was supposed to be carried out.

He closed his eyes and smiled as he pictured Bucky, "Merry Christmas, Bucky." He whispered, looking up at the tree for a few seconds longer before rising. He headed over to the others, taking the stapler from Tony's hand and reaching up to where the shorter man couldn't and stapled the ornamental pieces in place.

"Took you long enough to join in." Tony smirked, not much bothered by the soldier invading his space.

"You're welcome." Steve smirked, finding he had the courage and felt daring enough to tilt Tony's chin up and kiss him. Might as well carry on the tradition. He lifted his head to smile at the shocked brown eyes that stared at him, "Oops."

Chapter Text

Let it Snow

The lab was quiet and only held one soul inside. Bruce worked alone on a solution in the fluorescent lighting, finding it to be somewhat bothering to his eyes but he'd become so used to it that it didn't even register anymore. He already wore glasses from time to time, nothing wrong with wearing them more often, he didn't really mind.

No, he didn't mind anything other than the fact that he was working alone. Tony was supposed to be with him tonight, it was Christmas Eve and Bruce didn't have anyone other than Tony and occasionally Pepper to be with. Of course, when did Tony ever remember his previously planned evenings? They were supposed to be having coffee together, sitting up by the TV while Tony played that god-awful fake fire channel. Bruce hated that thing, he found utterly ridiculous to play the same fire crackling for hours on end. It didn't even give off warmth, what was the point?

Then again he often missed the point on things like that. Lately, anyway.

The next question he had to ask was what was he doing down in the lab? He was making a solution. What the hell kind of solution was he making? He'd read up on some interesting mixtures a while back and figured he'd give some of them a try. Why not? He didn't have anything else to do anyway.

Just as he bitterly dumped a few more ingredients inside his dish the door to the lab slid open. "Bruce?" Tony called in, to his credit he sounded a bit humbled. "Hey, what're you doing down here by yourself?"

"I don't know," Bruce looked up at him for all of two seconds before going back to his experiment, "What am I doing down here by myself, Tony?"

Tony cringed a little and waltzed over, leaning on the table next to the other scientist. "Hey, I'm an idiot."

"You are."

"Yeah. Forgive me?"

"Why?" Bruce rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly, "Why should I?"

"Because being mad over me having a terrible memory is silly?" Tony tried, Bruce would give him that.

"You really are an idiot."

"Come on, I'll make it up to you." Tony smiled, "Promise. Just give me a chance."

"I've given you like…. Ten already." Bruce furrowed his brow, looking at Tony incredulously.

Tony opened his mouth to speak but didn't, instead tried to distract the situation. "Hey, is that one of those recipes you looked up for the holidays?" He asked quickly, "Looks like you have everything in there let's put it to the test."

"Tony, wait." Bruce tried to stop the engineer as he placed the dish in a specially made oven, of course tinkered with so that it didn't actually do what regular ovens did. "Tony, stop. Tony no." Bruce couldn't control Tony or stop the man from setting the over and hit the start button.

"What's the matter?" Tony raised an eyebrow curiously.

Bruce looked mortified as the oven started to bubble and fizz, a vapour quickly escaping it. "I didn't add the decreasing agent…" Bruce muttered, backing away as the altered appliance started to shake.

"Oh..." Tony quickly stepped beside the other man and both backed away slowly, "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"Sadly, yes." Bruce nodded, slowly ducking behind one of the tables, Tony flinching and joining him a second or so after. Just in time, too because the over burst open and the entire lab filled with the swirling fog. Both scientists covered their mouths and kept their eyes squeezed shut, just in case there was something in the solution that made it toxic.

A few seconds passed, both waiting for something to happen, Bruce was more than tense as the time ticked by. He jumped a little when something small, cold and wet touched his cheek. He looked up, risking the possible burning of his eyes to see what was going on.

"No way…" he muttered, a soft laugh escaping him.

Tony looked up and smiled.

They had somehow managed to create a cloud in the lab, neither of them knew exactly how but there it was. And it was snowing. Bruce watched it slowly coat the lab, his smile genuine, and Tony hadn't missed it.

Tony slid his hand over and took Bruce's to hold, squeezing it gently and getting the other man's attention. Bright, wide eyes stared at Tony before that genuine smile widened, aimed at him this time instead of the snow.

"Merry Christmas, Bruce." Tony leaned over and kissed his partner's cheek softly.

Bruce laughed and returned the kiss though he wasn't courageous enough to plant it further than on Tony's cheek. "Happy Holidays."

They sat and smiled at one another, Bruce trying to will the blush away from his cheeks though it didn't seem to be working. "So…" Tony inched a bit closer, the look of mischief in his eyes not lost on Bruce.

"Yeah, I was wondering the same thing," Bruce smiled and looked up again.

"You were?" Tony looked surprised, and rightly so.

"Yep. How on earth are we going to clean this up?"

"Well played, Banner."

Chapter Text

Steve tapped his fingers along the sofa's armrest, his mind trailing along in silly little circles. He couldn't believe how restless he was. His mind was ready to go, he wanted to get up and do something. But he wasn't allowed to. The others had all told him he was a busybody, he was too into his work and it was starting to make him a little overbearing. He knew he could be overbearing but he needed to work. They wouldn't listen and straight up disagreed, saying he need to relax.

But he didn't want to. He didn't want to sit and do nothing because then he'd be allowed to think. He didn't want time to think, he wanted to be doing. Barely two months ago he'd been in the middle of World War II, he'd been fighting Schmidt, he had been a soldier. Lives depended on what he did and now nothing. He was barely even needed in day-to-day life in one city let alone the entire country. It was making him antsy and driving him crazy and he didn't want to be sitting here doing nothing. The others knew he'd seek out something to do if left alone, and of course none of them could watch him all the time. So what did they do? They went up to the Stark Winter cabin further North. All of them, for the Christmas season and that's the excuse they gave. But he knew better. They were just trying to keep him away from things to do. It was going to make him tear his hair out. He needed to do something, but he had no idea what.

Who did he know that was similar? Who of all the other Avengers had to be busy or he'd go insane?

Tony.

Steve rose and went to find the excitable engineer, not surprised to find him by the coffee maker in the kitchen. Before speaking, Steve had to pause and not giggle at Tony's get-up, apparently someone thought it funny to give him a horrific elf hat, along with what looked like an itchy Christmasy sweater. "'Tis the season," Steve chuckled, earning him a confused eyebrow raise. "For scary sweaters."

Tony laughed and nodded, "Yeah, Romanoff's been handing them out as some sick joke. She threatens to cut off your balls if you don't wear it."

Steve cringed and glanced down briefly, "She hasn't bothered me with it yet."

"I think she's just doing it to assholes." Tony shrugged, "Clint's wearing it too."

Again, Steve had to keep himself from laughing.

An awkward silence settled and Tony shifted a little, thinking up a decent way to break the ice. Steve wasn't always good at it, even though he was the one who entered the room. "So what's up, Cap? Looking for something? Coffee?" He lifted the pot in a gesture of giving toward the soldier.

"Uh, no thanks, I'm good." Steve waved it off with a smile, "Actually uh…" he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of a good way to say it. "I was looking for… well… I'm bored." He decided to just say it, and saw his suspicions confirmed by the expression on Tony's face.

Tony hadn't meant to give it away, of course, not that he knew that he had. It was often over-looked that Steve was so perceptive. "Then we better find something to do, hm?" He smirked and looked out the window, hoping something would give him an idea. It was a silly thought, just looking out a window wasn't bound to give anyone an idea, but here he was doing it anyway. Just staring at the snow outside the luxurious cabin… "Wanna go outside?"

Steve glanced out the window as well, his own mouth turning up into a grin, "Looking for anything and everything to keep me occupied, huh?"

The brunette looked back at his captain with a furrowed brow, Steve wasn't an idiot, no one had to tell him what they were doing for him to already know. Tony was about to try and cover it up or explain it, or something, when he saw Steve's eyes light up.

"Tony, have you ever made a snowman?"

"Not really, kind of a stupid kid game." Tony shrugged.

Steve walked toward the door, "Come on, let's go build a snowman." He knew the tone his friend held, the 'that activity is stupid because I never got to do it' tone. He'd said things like that all the time growing up, he was too sick to do a lot of the activities others took part in; he always made the excuse that he was too good for it. That didn't change the fact that he'd always wanted to do it, and now he finally had the chance.

"You'll have to teach me," Tony mused, pulling on his boots.

"I've never done it either." Steve smiled, zipping up his parka, pausing to tuck his scarf inside. He really liked the scarf Clint had given him, even if it had been meant in jest. Very patriotic and colourful, sure he felt silly in spandex but he loved colour. The apartment that SHIELD had given him was so sepia toned; everything was drab and really not pleasing to the eye in any way. He hated it. He really did. It was another reason he wanted to be out doing things; being at the cabin did help immensely.

"You haven't made snowmen either?" Tony stared, "Isn't that something everybody used to do?"

"Yeah, they did." Steve shrugged, "Whenever there was snow the kids would go out and throw snowballs, make snowmen and snow angels, build forts, et cetera."

"But you didn't?"

"No. I wasn't well enough, they worried I might get even more sick."

Tony watched as the soldier adjusted his mitts and toque, sometimes he forgot that Steve wasn't always like this. This mountain of muscle and picture of perfection. "Well then it's a learning experience for both of us." He chuckled, keeping his mind from thinking anything naughty about the other man. Wrapped up in several layers of clothing? Nothing sexy about that. Though Steve did manage to pull it off, Tony wasn't sure how.

However all sexual thoughts faded as they got started, packing snow into a ball and rolling it around the cabin's property, stopping every now and then to round it out and pack it down. Tony smiled over at Steve as the blonde happily rolled a giant ball of snow all over the place, a big smile on his rosy-cheeked face. He was occupied, and looked pretty damn happy about it. Tony considered all the other Christmas' he'd had in his life, the parties, getting drunk, going out and doing stupid crazy things for attention, all the fun times and everything else. And yet, no matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn't think of a moment that topped this one; Steve Rogers playing in the snow like a child. He'd even dropped onto his back and waved his arms and legs, Tony wished he could freeze the snow angel and keep it petrified somewhere: Steve Rogers/Captain America's first snow angel.

Of course Tony was in charge of making the smaller of the three snowballs since Steve could push the bigger one much easier. He'd made the midsection approximately proportionate to Steve's massive boulder of a base though he would have trouble lifting it. His captain did that as well, they both packed it on and tried to make it look like a proper snowman without it losing balance. The head was pretty simple and easy to accomplish and plop on top, once that was done they stepped back to admire their work.

"He's missing something…" Steve mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"He's missing a lot of somethings, if you're calling it a 'he'." Tony smirked, earning him the off-handed swat of his captain.

"We need rocks and a carrot." He decided and ran off around the cabin, "You go in and get the carrot, okay?" He called over his shoulder and Tony could have sworn he'd reverted to a ten-year-old. And it was adorable.

"Will do, Cap." Tony called back, heading inside to find said carrot, hoping they had any with them. "Note to self," he muttered on his way in, not bothering to take off his snowy boots as he went, "Do more child-like activities he's never done."

Fishing out a carrot wasn't easy, but he found one hiding in one of the random drawers in the fridge. He wanted to ask who on earth brought the carrots but he'd rather just take it outside and watch Steve.

When he got back to the snowman he found that it already had large stones crammed into its chest for buttons and two big eyes, Steve was in the process of dotting the thing's mouth. "Looking pretty sharp," Tony smirked as he approached, standing right behind the blonde. "What're you gonna name him?"

"Does he need one?" Steve glanced up, blue eyes nearly sparkling with a kind of glee that Tony hadn't ever really seen on his face before. It was refreshing, a nice change from the dismal man out of time look. And then it occurred to him, he wanted to see that expression again, to see Steve smile like that more often.

"Tony?"

"Uh… yeah?"

"You're staring." Steve grinned and for once Tony's cheeks felt hot.

"I'm not."

"Now you're lying." Steve stood and walked over to him, Tony froze and tilted his head up to look into his captain's face, the blush only sinking deeper into his skin. His heart was pounding and it only got louder as Steve stood closer, the blonde leaning forward only making his body feel warmer. He'd never been embarrassed like this, or was he? He was never embarrassed, so that must have meant…

When Steve reached forward and brushed his hand Tony held his breath, "I just want the carrot," Steve whispered with a smile before tugging it free from the genius' hands and walking back to the snowman with it.

Tony blinked a few times to allow his brain to catch up. "You… Yeah, I knew that. Just uh…"

"Tony,"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and get over here." Tony could have sworn Steve winked at him with that last order but didn't question it; instead he listened and walked closer. Steve twisted the carrot nose into place and leaned back a little to see how it looked. The moment Tony was close enough he put an arm around the smaller man's waist and pulled their bodies together, smiling when he heard the telltale sounds of Tony gasping from surprise. "Thank you, Tony."

Tony swallowed past the lump in his throat and looked up, "For what?"

"For doing this with me." Steve looked down at him and smiled warmly, "I really appreciate it."

"Any time, Steve." Tony smiled back and slung his arm around Steve's torso as well. It was nice to keep themselves busy for a little while and Tony might have just learned something new about himself, and about Steve.

Chapter Text

Peter was about 3 years old, it'd been almost a year since Tony and Steve adopted him and this was their first year celebrating Christmas as a family. Peter was tucked in for his nap, Tony made sure of it, the boy was sound asleep and there was absolutely nothing in the vicinity to suddenly wake him again. At least not until he and Steve could figure this mess out. Just as the genius was walking out of his son's bedroom he bumped into Steve, brow furrowed and eyes showing nothing but concern.

"We'll figure it out," Tony tried to reassure his husband before the blonde could speak.

"Tony, we haven't discussed this since before our wedding." Steve nearly whined the words but managed to keep his captain dignity. Not that Tony hadn't heard him whine before, or beg for that matter.

"That wasn't that long ago." Tony shrugged and walked pass the anxiety-ridden soldier.

"It was three years ago, Tony!" Steve swung his arms out somewhat dramatically, "We need to figure this out now."

"What's the issue? We already decided we'd let him choose which religion he wants to go for, if any-"

"I'm not talking about that." Steve followed Tony to their living room, arms crossed over his broad chest that was barely covered by a T-shirt. "Remember? We actually argued about this one."

"We argue about a lot." Tony raised an eyebrow, "Which part are we talking about if not the whole Nativity scene vs. Santa deal? Because I mean we already told him the whole story about Santa and the reindeer and the elves and freaking everything. He's really excited about it."

"You had said that if we ever had a kid you wanted to be Santa on Christmas, but I argued that I wanted to be too, we can't both dress up as Santa for Peter."

Tony blinked incredulously and snorted out a laugh, "Seriously? We actually fought over this?"

"A little, yeah." Steve looked a tad embarrassed to admit it now that Tony didn't seem phased by it. "So… then can I?"

"Of course, gorgeous." Tony smirked and slapped his partner's ass, grabbing a cheek for good measure. "C'mon, we got last minute plans to make."

Christmas Eve, it was late, really late. In fact it was so late it had been dark out forever already and he'd already fallen asleep once, that's how Peter knew it was late. He was curled up in his Captain America pyjamas on his Iron Man bed sheets, his Hulk blanket wrapped around him tightly. He almost didn't want to move, except he heard something on the roof their Malibu house. It sounded like hooves and bells, and he swore he heard a man laughing 'Ho, ho, ho'.

"Santa!" Peter squealed excitedly, jumping out of bed and scuttling across the floor, reaching up on his tiptoes for the handle and hopping out into the hall. He was about to run shouting that Santa was here but he remembered the stories from earlier. His dads had said that Santa always comes in the night before Christmas only when everyone was asleep, it was naughty to be up past your bedtime, Peter knew that, but he really wanted to see Santa for himself. So he scurried down to the living room where their tree was all set up and glowing.

And there he was. Big, red, and creeping around leaving presents like some kind of reverse burglar. Peter stared in wonderment as Santa placed a bunch of presents under the tree and a few in the stockings hanging on the wall, only pausing once to grab a cookie from the plate labeled 'for Santa' in Peter's 3-year-old scrawl.

Peter couldn't take his eyes away; he couldn't believe it was true, that this Santa was real. But wasn't he supposed to know when he was awake? Ah well, that wasn't important. What was important that there was a magic man who flew around in a sleigh of reindeers at night and he was at his house. Peter couldn't help the excited squeak that escaped him, his hands coming up to cover his mouth immediately, big eyes staring as Santa turned around. Peter didn't know what to do, Santa wasn't supposed to know he was awake, he was being naughty because he was out of bed. Santa was going to take all his presents away.

So what does any 3-year-old do in a panic? He sniffled and in less than five seconds of the squeak he started crying.

Steve gawked for a second before hurrying to his son's side and picking him up, hushing him gently like he always did, not really thinking about it. "Shhh, Peter it's okay."

"Don't *sniff* t-take my p-p-presents away Santa!" Peter wailed, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be bad!"

"No, sweetie, it's okay." Steve cradled him and tried wiping his tears away, "No one's taking your presents, Peter. You aren't being bad."

Peter sniffled a few more times and tried wiping his eyes, "No?"

Steve nearly cracked at the way the boy stared up at him, "No, I promise."

Peter smiled and tried to hug him, his little arms were far too short to reach all the way around. "Thank you Santa, I love you."

Steve hugged his boy in return, trying not to cry himself. "I love you too, Peter." He ruffled his son's hair and tilted his chin up, "You know what? You were so good this year, you can have the rest of my cookies."

"Can I really?" Peter lit up like the Christmas tree behind him and Steve wished he'd had a camera.

"Really."

After that Santa took off, Peter standing in the living room with a cookie in his hands, smiling widely. "Who was that, sport?" Tony feigned tired as he leaned against the doorframe of the living room, trying not to grin after witnessing the whole scene.

"Daddy! Daddy it was Santa!" Peter exclaimed, running into Tony's arms excitedly hopping up and tugging on his shirt. "Santa was here! Santa was here! You were right!"

Tony smirked and picked Peter up, patting his back, "Calm down, Peter. What was he like?"

"He was big! And nice! And kinda like Pop but with a beard and old." Peter rambled on and Tony wondered if they'd really adopted this kid. He was excitable, talked really fast, adorable, and very perceptive.

'Kid knows his dads.' Tony mused, "So you like him?"

"I love Santa! I hope he comes every year."

"I think he might, kiddo." Tony glanced down the hall where he saw Steve sneaking in and stripping the Santa suit off. He lifted his hand toward his husband and gave him a thumb's up. Steve smirked and returned the gesture with a wink of his own. "I think he might."

Chapter Text

Way too much eggnog. Bruce decided as he watched Clint stagger over from the kitchen again, the assassin on his fifth strongly mixed drink of the night. What on earth could be eating at the man that he had to drink this much? Hell, Bruce had been invited by the drunken moron, Clint had already had a few drinks before Bruce even showed up. The sharp-shooter had said earlier that a lot of people would be showing up, that everyone would be, but so far it was the just the two of them. And honestly it was getting closer to midnight now, no one had even so much as phoned. This wasn't exactly how Bruce intended to spend his Christmas Eve, baby-sitting a drunk Clint, but he wasn't really doing anything else this year so why not?

"You know," Clint muttered as he dropped down on the couch, his drink sloshing and nearly spilling in his hand, "You know what, Bruce? You know what?"

Bruce tried not to roll his eyes, "What is it, Clint?"

"You're real… really cute." Clint mumbled through the words but Bruce heard them loud and clear.

"I'm… I'm what?" He heard them but he didn't believe them. "Say that again."

"I said you're… you're real pretty, and cute." Clint swallowed down a few more gulps of his new drink; he was enjoying the stuff like it was some kind of candy. "I always thought so, y'know? Like, the first time we met I was like 'whoa… that guy… that guy is cute'."

Bruce tried to cover his face to hide the tinge of blush in his cheeks, "You know the first time we met was right before…"

"Right before you transformed, yeah I know. That was badass, man. I mean really badass. You were this cute little guy in clothes that were waaaay too big on you an' then, an' then you just blow up into this giant green dude and you freaking punch out an alien tank monster! It was incredible. And… and badass man." Clint took a few more chugs until the drink was gone, peering at the bottom of the cup disdainfully.

"Why are you drinking so much? And what happened to everyone else?" Bruce took the glass from him and put it down on the coffee table, a little bit of distance between Clint and the offending piece would do him some good.

"I…" Clint curled his bottom lip in and looked away, "I was… I was nervous."

"Nervous? About what?" Bruce furrowed his brow, concern etching into his expression like a neat little animated build. His mind immediately went to the worst thought he could get to, that Clint was nervous about spending time with just him and Bruce, that he'd been hoping the others would show up too so that way Bruce wouldn't be able to kill him as easily if he were to get angry. He didn't think he could take that, if it were Clint's answer.

"You." Clint slurred, too drunk to notice the hurt look on the scientist's face.

"Oh…"

"Yeah," Clint swallowed and fidgeted, "I thought you might not come if I said it would just be you and me, so I…. I lied to you, Bruce."

"Wait, what?" Bruce blinked incredulously. "You… you planned for it to be just us?"

"Yeah… I know you'd spend Christmas Eve alone, probably… probably crying… like I would. I've… I've wanted to ask-ask you out for forever, Bruce." Clint didn't really know what he was saying or in what order but he hoped it was coming out right.

Bruce didn't know what to say to this, Clint might just be a drunk babbling idiot and this might be truth, but judging from the way the assassin was fidgeting he could only imagine that it was the truth. "You… you mean it, don't you?"

"Yeah. S'why I'm so nervous." Clint laughed anxiously which got caught in his throat and turned in to hiccups. Really loud and obnoxious hiccups. "Oh god-*HIC*" Clint dropped his face into his hands, mortified that his 'ask Bruce out' plan had fallen to this.

Bruce watched him and with each passing hiccup, each loud and almost painful awkward noise, he couldn't help but laugh.

"I am probably-*HIC* the most rdiculo-*HIC*-lous thing you've ever seen." Clint groaned though he found Bruce's laughter contagious. Sure, laughing with hiccups only makes them worse, but Clint was willing to suffer if it made Bruce laugh even half as much as he was now.

Bruce wasn't considering this night to be anything special, and to some it probably wouldn't even look like it was. But it was to him and he wouldn't trade this first night with his new boyfriend for anything else. "Let me get you another eggnog," he chuckled, rising from the couch and away from Clint's suffering form.

"You're awesome."

"And badass, apparently."

"That too."

Chapter Text

"But why?" Peter all but whined despite trying to look angry. "Why can't he come over?"

"Because Christmas isn't 'hang out with your no-good boyfriend' time, that's why." Steve crossed his arms over his chest firmly; not budging and Peter could see it clearly.

"Come on, Pop! You must have dated someone like-" Peter spotted Tony raising an eyebrow from behind Steve and couldn't help but laugh. "You married someone like Wade."

Steve looked shocked and even a little disgusted at the idea, "Are you implying I'm like that creep?" Tony gawked, "Really, Peter, you can do better than that. The answer's still no."

Peter sighed and ran a hand down his face, now not even his dad was backing him up, he really was bad at this convincing them thing. "But why?"

"We said no." Steve bellowed in what Tony knew to be his captain voice, the brunette cringing slightly at the harshness of it. "Damn it, Peter, no means no, stop trying to change our minds."

"Fine." Peter suddenly shifted from the 'I want something out of you' cuteness mode to stubborn teenager in the blink of an eye, "Whatever." With that he turned and ran off to his room.

"Peter," Steve called after him, "Peter!" The sound of a door slamming made him wince. "Did… I go too far with that one?" He looked over at Tony who shrugged.

"He keeps thinking he can get away with stuff like that, I think it's better to remind him we can't always be manipulated." The engineer tapped his fingers on the table lightly, letting the silence sink in. "But… you know if he's serious about this Wade guy we should be a bit more supportive."

"You know Wade's bad news." Steve furrowed his brow; he still hadn't uncrossed his arms.

"That's what everyone told you about me, remember?" Tony cooed, walking behind his husband and glancing down at the man's rear despite it being somewhat inappropriate for the situation. But then again, that was the whole point, wasn't it?

"Yeah," Steve smiled with the memory, taken completely by surprise when Tony's rough hands slipped below his belt to grab his ass. "Tony!" He reeled and lightly smacked his partner's cheek, "Not the time."

"It's always a good time." Tony winked.

"Do you think he'll hate me?" Steve couldn't help but worry about it; it was so easy to get on someone's bad side and he seemed to do it exponentially well. Or so the bad guys seemed to think so.

"After everything that you two have been through, I'd say it'd be absolutely retarded of him if he did." Tony dropped onto the couch and leaned back, "But then, when have teenagers ever been rational?"

Steve watched Tony relax, it looked comfortable and inviting but he couldn't bring himself to join in, his mind swirling around negative thoughts too much. 'I should go talk to him.' He decided and strode down the hall to Peter's room. Tony glanced over the side of the couch and only chuckled; he knew Steve pretty well and had counted down the seconds to when the soldier made up his mind almost exactly. He was off by maybe one or two, but if anyone asked he was exactly right.

Steve exhaled before opening Peter's door, his head slightly tucked down in a sort of apologetic bow as entered, "Peter, I-" He froze when he looked up and saw his son sitting on the bed next to Wade, they'd just leaned back pretending they hadn't been kissing but Steve wasn't new to this game. His expression fell flat and he straightened up as he walked into the room.

"Uh… Pop it's not what it-" Peter just stopped trying when he saw the telltale signs of 'not giving a fuck' on his dad's face.

"Mr. Rogers it's nice to see you agai-AH! Okay picking me up and opening the window, that's totally cool, nice breeze and WAIT DON'T THROW ME-AHHHH! You jerk!" And just like that Wade was gone.

"Pop!" Peter gawked.

"He'll be fine, I've done worse." Steve closed the window and clapped his hands together as if it were a job well done. "Now you, young man," He turned a firm gaze on the teen, "You were asking if he could come over when he was already here, weren't you?"

"Uh… well not exactly-"

"Peter."

"Yes sir." Peter sighed, he couldn't hide anything from Steve or Tony, it's like they invented his bullshit and sold it back to him or something. "But honestly, why can't he be over for Christmas?"

Steve looked away for a moment, he knew he was being irrational, that Peter was obviously going to date people. And if he didn't accept it and let it happen under his roof where he could watch it, then Peter would sneak around behind his back and he'd never be able to properly protect him. But was Wade really the problem, here? "I guess I was… too used to the way things used to be." He admitted, surprised at the words himself as much as Peter was. "But I know things don't stay the same, and I should be a little more open to change when it comes up." Steve smiled over at Peter's somewhat confused expression, "I guess he can be over for Christmas."

"Really Pop?" Peter's face lightened up, "You mean it?"

Steve sighed and nodded, "Yeah, I do."

"Sweet." Wade cheered from the window, perched slightly inside with a grin on his face.

Steve frowned and walked over, shoving the other out again and slamming the window shut. "In the evening or something." He muttered, "We'll figure it out."

Peter laughed and jumped onto Steve's back, squeezing him in a hug, "Thanks Pop."

"Hey, I'm part of the decision making around here too, you know." Tony stood with his hands on his hips in the doorway.

"Alright, Tony." Steve turned and looked at him, not even fazed by the teenager clinging to his back, "What do you think?"

"I think he's a pest but determined, might as well give him a shot." Tony smirked, his eyes not on Steve but the window.

"Double sweet." Wade cheered from behind the glass.

"Oh my god! Would you just go away!?" Steve shouted.

Chapter Text

"What is this? What is the point of it?" Green eyes glared distrustingly at the beverage placed nearby, had he been a cat surely Loki would have hissed.

"They call it Eggnog on Midgard." Thor chimed, scooting next to his brother with his own mug of the stuff. "You drink it, Loki."

Loki only stared at it, unwilling. "It smells odd." He finally said after a long pause.

"You can't even smell it from there, come on, brother, give it a try." Thor tried to urge gently though he figured it might not end so well.

"Why are we doing this, Thor? This is not our religion to celebrate." Loki wasn't an idiot; he knew what Christmas was and what Thor was sort of trying to do by bringing it to them. The idiot saw it on Earth, found it very entertaining and had now brought the idiocy home with him.

"The man of iron said that it all but lost its true meaning a long time ago, there is no harm in enjoying a few Midgardian winter solstice traditions." Thor chugged back the drink, evidently enjoying it since he didn't stop for air until it was almost gone.

"But why do it on Asgard, then?" Loki picked up the drink and peered into it, "Wouldn't you have more fun with your friends?"

Thor smiled and put his arm around the smaller god's shoulders, not missing the slight look of panic that rose and fell instantly on Loki's face. "I shall go there soon enough, but for now I'd like to spend the eve of it with you."

"You're ridiculous." Loki closed his eyes and stood, walking away from his brother stiffly, only stopping when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Loki," Thor waited until he turned back to look, Loki's expression twisting in confusion at the big grin on the god of thunder's face.

"What? What are you so smiley about?"

"Another Midgard tradition," Thor leaned forward as he pulled Loki closer, their lips connecting in a warm, passionate kiss. Loki remained in Thor's grip for a moment, letting the kiss linger until he vehemently pulled away, covering his mouth as a light pink colour seeped into his cheeks.

"Wh-what?" He snapped, wanting to leave entirely though Thor still had a grip on his forearm.

"A mistletoe," The blonde pointed up above their heads to a silly little fig thing with a bow attached to the doorway, "On Midgard when you catch someone beneath one it is customary to kiss."

Loki stared up at it for a few passing seconds and lowered his head, turning slightly away, muttering something.

"I did not understand that, what did you say, brother?" Thor leaned a little closer, surprised when Loki turned back to look at him and their noses touched.

"I said, 'fine, I'll stay'." Loki chuckled and returned the kiss in his own way, a light peck on the lips before walking back into the room and picking up the eggnog. What did he have to lose, really? He was a god and this was a Midgardian beverage, he could handle it just fine. And so he chugged it similarly to how Thor had done it, just to prove a point that he could.

Chapter Text

Christmas Memory

"Do I look like I care? Let me get one thing straight, I don't like you, I owe you. There's a difference."

"Get your ass over here!"

"No, not that way!"

"NATASHA!"

Natasha flinched and sat upright, her hand immediately brushing by her forehead and wiping sweat away. A bad dream. She was having a nightmare, about Budapest of all things. She rubbed her face tiredly and knew already that she would never be able to fall asleep again, not without getting up to clear her head.

After pulling a cotton robe around herself to cover the skimpy sleep wear, Natasha wandered the floor she'd been given in Stark Tower. It was incredible that Tony could house them all like this, though really it just meant a lot of money. Regardless, she appreciated it at times, especially when she wanted to be alone.

However now was not one of those moments. Natasha made her way to the main sitting area in the Tower, the place where they'd all go randomly, just for a chance encounter with someone else. She didn't expect anyone to but up at that hour but it was worth a shot at least. The halls were dark and the tower was eerily quiet. She almost missed the other individual on the sofa, almost.

"Couldn't sleep?" Clint muttered, looking up at her from the darkened room. She couldn't see his face but knew he must look about as tired as she felt.

"Isn't it obvious?" She asked somewhat bitterly as she slowly approached, arms slipping around her torso unconsciously, a protective stance taken.

Clint nodded and looked back at the tree he'd unplugged, "Christmas… what a silly holiday."

"A lot of people like it." Natasha sat down beside him, her eyes lingering on the same thing as his.

They both remained quiet as old scenes played out in their heads; Clint rubbed his face as he laughed, breaking the silence effectively. "Remember how much you hated me?"

"I didn't hate you, I didn't feel anything about you." Natasha corrected, adjusting her position to lay her head down on his lap, eyes closed.

"Yeah… well regardless you still didn't listen to my judgment call when it came down to it."

"You had made a bad one right before the big one, I wasn't sure you were right that time."

"It was dark like this then, remember?"

She nodded quietly, her eyes shifting behind their lids as if she were seeing it again. "Budapest was awful." She settled on saying, her mouth twisting slightly as she made a face. "Worst way to spend Christmas ever."

Clint chuckled and brushed her hair away, "Well we made it out."

"Yeah," Natasha looked up at him and smiled kindly for once, "And it's time we forgot about it."

"Agreed." Clint leaned down and locked lips with her, sharing a kiss in the darkness and remaining completely unseen by the others.

Chapter Text

Steve licked his lips, knowing full well that it didn't help moisturize them and that he'd have to do it again but it gave him a small amount of relief and that was good enough for the situation. He pulled the string back, arms tense and back straight. He could feel he was doing it wrong, something felt off but he just couldn't pin point it. He'd never used a bow and arrow before; if he had he wouldn't need Clint standing nearby.

Nearby wasn't the right word, either. Close. Clint was close, and even that didn't seem right. Clint's body was against his, front pressed to his back as Clint adjusted Steve's stance, knocking up an elbow, massaging his shoulder down from its tense state. Steve didn't mind, it was about teaching, after all. He was more than okay with learning something new, especially new fighting skills. He caught on quickly as usual though a few things he hadn't gotten right yet so he needed to make sure it was perfect.

Most of the time Steve wouldn't bother with things like archery, he'd never use it and he knew that much. However they were bored beyond belief. Not just a little bored, like 'hey let's go have a drink or something'. No. They were ridiculous to the point where Steve attempted to pace a path through the floor like he'd seen done in those cartoons everyone said were old though he found them hilarious. It didn't work, of course. He paced as much as his patience would allow and Clint bothered to watch and measure to see if the floor had been worn away any.

Obviously it hadn't.

They were on assignment together, just the two of them. It had been of great importance when they'd left, the planning and caution that went into it all. But now? Well now their enemy had actually settled for the holidays and wasn't doing anything. Celebrating Christmas or whatever version they wanted to call it. Same thing, presents, good cheer, enjoying themselves.

So Steve and Clint were stuck. They couldn't pull out because getting back in would be too risky, they'd gotten in on the narrow window of not being spotted the first time, it would be impossible to leave the same way let alone return later. This all meant the holidays would be spent between the two of them, waiting in the snowy fields together, sleeping in the quinjet and finding something to do in the meantime.

Archery had come up. Steve had been staring at the bow for long enough to catch Clint's eye, the sharpshooter excitedly dragging his captain into the snow to shoot at a few targets he'd set up. The first shot Steve made was entirely on his own. Clint told him to take aim and fire one off. He wanted to know how good Steve was without any practice or help, to see what he was working with.

Steve hadn't disappointed him; the first shot was excellent. He'd memorized Clint's stance with a single glance a while back and had done his best to mimic it. He hadn't hit the target but he came closer than any other beginner Clint had seen.

So now here they were, trying to perfect his stance to the tiniest detail. Clint didn't want Steve to fire another shot until they had it just right. His captain would remember exactly how he'd been standing and would be able to recreate it in a heartbeat. As long as it was perfect. And who better to get him in the right position than Hawkeye?

"Relax a little." Clint was close to his ear as he spoke; Steve did well to control the small shiver running down his spine though Clint could see everything from there. The little bumps on Steve's skin, the slight tint it was getting, all of it. Steve could easily blame the redness for being cold, and the little sensitive bumps as a shiver. Or he could just not mention them at all. But what he couldn't explain was the soft gasp that escaped him when Clint's hands were on him. The archer had run his hands down Steve's sides, took hold of his hips and shifted them, he didn't say anything but his eyes were up and trained on the back of his captain's head.

'A nervous sigh maybe?' Clint thought as he finished moving Steve's upper body, glancing down at his legs to check the stance again. He wasn't going to think anything of it, at least not until he grabbed the thick, muscled thigh to move it. He felt the muscle spasm and heard that little sound again though Steve tried to swallow it down. 'It's me, definitely caused by me.' Clint couldn't help a slight grin as he stood again. "Don't move, almost perfect Cap." He said calmly, shifting around and checking Steve's form, eyeing every little inch of the man. He knew Steve knew he was doing it; the slight bob of the larger man's Adam's apple gave him away. "Alright, Clint went behind his captain again, "Relax, take a slow breath in." He breathed with Steve, watching the rise of the man's chest carefully. "And exhale just as slowly," he smiled; he'd never had this kind of control over what Steve did. It felt good. "I'm going to count down and when I reach one I want you to let go, alright?"

Steve nodded, his mind entirely in the moment, his brain focusing in on his target. It was almost predatory, Clint noticed. The scary look in those blue eyes, icy as they never faltered from their prey. 'He is gorgeous…' Clint thought as he started his countdown. "Three… Two…" his eyes trailed along Steve's torso and found himself licking his lips. "One."

Just as Steve was letting go, Clint's hands had found their way around his body, one sliding up to his chest and squeezing the muscle there, the other slipping low and getting a mitt full of his captain's junk. "Mm, warm." Clint hummed.

"C-Clint you-" Steve stammered, shocked and appalled that his teacher had caused him to miss. He moaned and nearly squeaked when the archer started pinching his nipples beneath his shirt with one hand, the other massaging and stroking his groin rhythmically. "We're on assignment." He gasped in protest.

"So? Maybe we could get our target in on this-" Clint's dirty mind was stopped abruptly when Steve lightly smacked his head with an arrow.

"I said stop." Steve smirked, pulling away with a surprisingly playful smirk on his face.

Clint watched his captain go to retrieve the arrows shot and couldn't help but wonder what went on in the army back in the war that Steve could just walk away from him like that.

Chapter Text

Steve yawned behind the back of his hand, trying his hardest not to but sometimes they just sneak up. He'd gotten back about two hours ago from a solo mission and was exhausted, he'd nearly run all night to make it back to the rest of the troops in the base camp. They were planning to decorate a Christmas tree and exchange gifts, something that they'd been doing since the start of the war and were continuing to do now. Steve had heard the planned date and promised he'd be back for it. And he was, he just hadn't had any sleep.

The Commandant's Christmas message was being read out to them though Steve could hardly be interested in it. He was struggling to keep his tired sounds to himself. All the other soldiers stood at attention, their backs straight, shoulders back, heads up and arms at their sides. They looked like a military as they received their Christmas wishes, Steve felt a little proud to be part of it, a smile spreading his lips and taking over his face.

"A little tired, Cap?" Bucky elbowed his side and nearly knocked him over, the smaller man's expression taking on a look of shock. "Geez, Steve! I had no idea you were-"

"Shh," Steve gestured for his friend to be quiet, stifling his own surprise as well. He hadn't realized he was this tired either. His solo mission had turned out to be a little more than they'd bargained for, the small base he'd been dispatched to handle had ended up being the front for something much larger and he'd spent the majority of the last three days fighting non-stop. No one questioned how long it had taken him so far, however he'd only just finished organizing his report, he had yet to give it.

"Christmas in the trenches this year," Bucky mused softly, looking forward again with a smile on his lips. He couldn't help but bug Steve, though he was worried about the guy. Steve wasn't the type to be so tired, it was the serum that helped but mostly Steve hated to look exhausted in front of other people.

"Looks that way," The blonde smiled and fought off another yawn, not that Bucky missed the telltale signs on his friend's face. "Wonder if anything special will happen…"

"Always does." Bucky smirked and looked ahead again, doing his best to listen to the speech. They were both silent as the ceremonial portion ended, knowing that back home people were thinking of all the soldiers who couldn't make it home for Christmas. But truthfully? Neither of them had anyone waiting, they were right next to one another on the battlefield, who else would be thinking and wishing for them to come back? Steve was more than happy to be with Bucky during the holidays and likewise Bucky wouldn't rather be with anyone else.

They'd always spent the holidays together, mostly just the two of them. This would be the first year they found themselves with many others in a long time, Steve was curious about what kinds of traditions the others enjoyed. Were there sweets involved? Big meals? Gift giving? The military didn't enforce anything but the guys seemed keen on giving one another things, a sort of Secret Santa set up. Steve loved it; he'd gotten something in one of the towns they'd passed two weeks back, fancy cologne in a cute little shop. He'd wrapped it up and left it with his things, knowing that he might not get a chance later.

"That took a while," Dugan chuckled as the commandos settled into their own little area, glancing over at his captain just in time to catch the man with his mouth wide open in another yawn. "See? Even got Cap droolin' in his sleep."

Steve smirked, his hand coming up to cover his mouth a little, "Not that bad, corporal."

"Sure," Bucky nudged his back as he found a seat. "So we doin' this or what?"

"You bet." Steve answered as everyone placed their gifts in the center of their circle, each with a number assigned to it. Bucky meanwhile tossed a bunch of numbers written on scraps in a helmet, mixing them up quickly.

"You guys know the rules, you get the gift assigned to the number you draw. Got it?" Bucky looked at everyone who nodded their understanding.

"Captain, you first." Dugan grinned. "You do more work."

"I couldn't," Steve shook his head, "Captain goes last, you've all put in just as much effort or more than I have."

"Don't argue with the man," Bucky chuckled, fishing out a number for himself, everyone following suit until they each had one, Steve picking up the last paper with a smile. He didn't care what he got, as long as everyone was having a good time he was happy. They were fortunate to have this chance between missions to begin with.

"Anyone have any interesting traditions they're used to?" Steve asked as they all eagerly picked up the appropriate gift to their chosen number.

"We always had wine," Dugan shook his head sadly, "A big glass of the stuff, and there were these amazing little cakes my girl always made."

"Sounds like your traditions revolve around food, Dum Dum," Bucky grinned, his fingers gently picking at the wrapping of his gift. Steve recognized the little package, Bucky was holding his. He wondered if his friend somehow cheated to get it, but didn't let his suspicions get any louder than silent.

"Shut up Barnes, what do you do as a tradition?" Dugan snarked, also itching to unwrap his gift.

"Steve and I didn't have much for tradition, just one thing." Bucky smiled and Steve had to look at him with a bit of surprise that the other man would even consider bringing it up here.

"And that'd be?"

"We called it a 'Christmas Oops.'"

Steve turned away, slightly embarrassed and unsure about what Bucky was about to do next.

"What the hell is that?" Dugan raised an eyebrow, only bringing up a smirk from the brunette.

Bucky turned Steve's head to face him by angling his chin and locked their lips in a kiss, the captain blushing dangerously hot throughout. The other men's reactions drowned out by his heart beating, he could never forget how it started, that little kiss that was meant for a cheek turned into this. And every year they shared one on Christmas, this year was, thankfully, no different.

They broke apart; Bucky's smile widening as Steve's started to mimic it. Their eyes didn't leave the other's for several seconds before looking back to their team.

"That." Steve admitted somewhat sheepishly, trying not to notice the stupid grins on everyone else's faces.

"Can we open these now!?" Bucky demanded, part of the wrapping already torn on his.

Steve welcomed the distraction happily, "Let's, please."

The others allowed it, this time anyway, and tore their gifts open. Some got a new tie, suspenders, a shaving kit (for Dugan which made them all chuckle), Steve raised an eyebrow at the poster of a pinup girl that was wrapped around an American flag. "Seriously?" He laughed, "I think this is the most appropriate gift."

"Nope," Bucky lifted up the cologne with a smile, "Because some homo-jerk bought perfume."

Steve snorted back a laugh, "Merry Christmas, guys."